


dependable people and things that i'm sure of

by wolfchester



Series: for you i have so many words [2]
Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M, just some soft sad stuff, tim's sad about it, tyra's leaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:32:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfchester/pseuds/wolfchester
Summary: tyra's leaving. tim doesn't want her to.





	dependable people and things that i'm sure of

**Author's Note:**

> felt inspired to finally finish a whole lot of unfinished tim/tyra works from years ago after fINALLY watching the finale of fnl s5. here we go

* * *

_I know that he loves me as I watch him leave_

_I’d do anything at all to hear his voice call me_

_But now there’s a shadow where once stood a beam_

_He’s searching for colour in a sepia scene_

_But I can go out there, I can be someone else_

_We all have the power to do this shit to ourselves_

_But in the quiet times, where nobody can see_

_I’m letting my thoughts get bigger than me_

_And the cold wind blows and the spring never came_

_And I feel so sick if I hear his name_

* * *

The night before graduation, she turns up at his doorstep with a six pack of beer.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tim asks when he opens the door.

Tyra shrugs and wordlessly lifts up the beer with one hand, raising an eyebrow. With a short laugh, Tim opens the door further to let her inside.

One and a half hours later, Tyra’s well onto her third beer. Tim, on the other hand, has already had his fair share of Tyra’s six pack and has now moved on to Billy’s “secret” stash of Jack Daniels. (It’s not really that secret. The bottle’s hidden in the back of the crockery cupboard. Then again, when do the Riggins brothers ever use crockery?)

They’re seated next to each other on the little couch, facing the television set near the wall. On the screen, a heavily made-up news anchor tells the good people of Texas that a young woman was kidnapped in Austin earlier that afternoon. But Tim and Tyra aren’t listening.

They’re too busy talking and drinking, caught up in high school nostalgia and each other’s slow smiles. It’s like the old days again, when they were sixteen and infatuated with each other. When they’d skip school to go out to the valley where Tim’d hit golf balls into oblivion and Tyra would watch. When everything made sense. Before Jason’s accident and Lyla Garrity and the man that Tyra and Landry killed.

“Can’t believe that we’re graduating high school tomorrow,” Tyra says with a sigh, taking another sip of her drink. Her chest hurts from laughing at a story Tim had just told about Smash WIlliams in sophomore year. “Honestly? I didn’t think we’d make it this far.”

Tim grins wide and lifts his glass up in the air as a sort of toast. “Cheers to us, then,” he laughs, and they clink glasses. A bit of brown liquid spills from Tyra’s bottle onto Tim’s pants, but he doesn’t really care. “Here’s to making it until graduation.”

Tyra smiles at the boy in front of her and takes a celebratory swig of her beer. His face is slightly flushed and his eyes glint with a light she hasn’t seen in a long time. His gaze finds hers, and her breath catches like it used to do when she was younger.

Suddenly, Tim’s hands reach out to cup her face, and his lips press against hers. It’s magnetic. Dangerous. They kiss like wild things, like they’re drowning. Tyra climbs into Tim’s lap, twists her fingers in his hair, feels his hands slide around her waist. Her elbow accidentally knocks an empty beer bottle off of the coffee table but neither of them hear the crash it makes as it hits the floor.

The last time they were like this it was prom night, and even though it was only a few months ago, it feels like an age. And besides, the kiss they shared that night wasn’t anything like this. That was sweet, even mildly innocent. Like a second-first-kiss. This is hungry, desperate, alcohol-fueled, and almost kind of sad. On Tyra’s part, at least. It feels like this is the last time she’ll ever get to kiss him. Maybe it is.

When he starts kissing down her neck she says, breathless: “I’m leaving.”

His mouth stills on the soft skin of her collarbone and he pulls away, looking at her with desire-darkened eyes. “You’re- what _?_ ”

“I got into college.”

He smiles, and then leans down to continue kissing her skin. “Well, that’s great.”

“San Francisco University. In California.”

Now, he stops for good. His hands drop from her back and he frowns. “California?” He laughs, then. Short and sharp. “You can’t be serious.”

She nods, and slips off of his lap back onto the couch. “I-I’m leaving tomorrow. I have an 11 o’clock flight. Just, uh, after the ceremony.” She curses herself for stuttering like a damn fool. Like she’s not Tyra fucking Collette, confident and brash and a girl who has all her shit together.

“Why the fuck would you wanna go to California?” Tim says, like he can’t believe she’d ever want anything else other than Dillon, even though she’s been talking about getting out for years. “What about ‘Texas Forever’ and all that shit?”

“Tim-”

“California. Cali-fuckin’-fornia.” He whispers the name under his breath, unbelieving, and tips his head, closing his eyes. He takes a long drink.

“Why do you even care where I go? What I do? It’s not like we’re together, Riggins.”

Tim rubs a hand over his tired face. “God damn it, Tyra, you know I care about you. Don’t try to be all tough with me just because you feel fucking shit about leaving.”

Tyra wants to protest, wants to argue back, but she knows it’s true.

“I’m different,” she says, quieter now. “I know that I have to work for the things that I want if I want to survive out there. In the world that so fuckin’ _big_ . And that’s why I have to leave. Because I know if I stay here…” she shuts her eyes closed, takes a deep breath. “I look at my mom and my sister, and I love them, but- I don’t want that. I don’t want to _live_ like that. And I’m absolutely fucking terrified that if I stay here, that’s what I’m going to become.”

Tim is quiet for a long time. Finally, he speaks. “You’re right. We’re not together. You can do whatever you want. Have fun in California.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Tim. Not if I’m leaving.”

“I’m not being sarcastic, Tyra,” he says, opening his eyes and looking at her. He draws out the syllables in her name like he always does. Lazy and soft, full of something that resembles kindness. “I mean it.”

Slowly, she smiles. “I know you do.”

She stands up to leave, but Tim grabs her hand. His thumb traces circles on her palm. She waits for him to speak.

“You know I’ll miss you, right?”

Tears prick at Tyra’s eyes, and to avoid a dramatic exit she doesn’t reply. If she had, she might have said something like: _I’ve loved you, and I love you, and I probably always will._

But it’s not the time for those kind of sentiments now. It’s the time for leaving, and flying, and running, and running, and running.

* * *

_Oh how he left me cause we went too far_

_I looked at my body, I learnt how to drive a car_

_I had my family and I had my friends_

_But oh, how I wanted to be with him again_

_But I can run further than I could before_

_And I can laugh louder, I can dance ’til I’m sore_

_Then in the morning, I can do it again_

_I just have to keep moving, don’t ever stop moving_

_And all of this envy and all of this fear_

_Will just be a memory of this shitty year_

_And I’m so much older than I want to be_

_But there’s so much more if I take it easy_

* * *


End file.
